Central Library
by Penelope Jadewing
Summary: Because Edward Elric and Elliot Nightray in the same room equals hilarious chaos. Two egos clash, names are tossed, and a dangerous secret is revealed. LONG ONESHOT - Now expanded into a slow-going multi-chapter fic!
1. Central Library

**A/N: Okay, so I just started watching Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood... I consider myself a mild fan, but I had to write this crossover because... seriously. The Egotistic Edward Elric and Elliot Nightray (dang, Elly, your last name spoils the alliteration...) in the same room? Yeah. I couldn't resist.**

**There are spoilers for Pandora Hearts from Retrace 59 and beyond, as well as mild spoilers for Fullmetal Alchemist.**

**Enjoy, those who read. Reviews are love. X3**

**~Penelope**

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><p>This library seriously had nothing of value. Really.<p>

Oh, sure, it had plenty of tomes and volumes galore, and Elliot could smell the age of the thousands of pages residing here on these endless shelves. It was a scent he rather cherished, something that always put him at ease. It reminded him that there were worlds out there that many didn't know, and never would know until they cracked open the cover of a timeless classic. Those poor, stupid people didn't know what they were missing.

Of course, though, the level of enjoyment in the reader depended on the content of the book. And for the past hour, all the young Nightray had managed to find was a bunch of tiresome three-inch books suited only for the very desperate student, or the obsessed researcher.

Worse still, this library lacked life. There was nobody here, and while Elliot quite liked solitude (so long as Leo was around; silence when he was alone unnerved him), he liked a little variety now and then. It didn't seem right that a library of all places would be so empty and quiet. It felt so dead, and he didn't know whether that made him sad or angry.

He flipped through the worn pages of yet another volume in hopes of finding a good, swashbuckling tale to suit his fancies, but all he found was more ridiculous scientific gobbledygook. A harsh groan finally escaped his throat, and he shoved the volume back onto the shelf.

"I don't get it. This is the fiction section, for crying out loud!" he growled, scanning the shelves before him. When they had asked the librarian directions to their fiction area, she had happily led them to this tiny little corner in the back and chirped 'hope you find what you're looking for, boys!' before walking off again.

Yes. He had been searching this single corner for something worth reading for a whole hour.

Leo, who seemed to have found something of interest to him, barely glanced up at his master's complaint. "Well, this library is under the management of the federal system here… I think it's more of an archive than anything."

"But they call it a library! I'd say that's a little more than a bit misleading!"

"Show a little appreciation, at least. It was like pulling teeth for your father to even get us in here."

He snorted ungracefully. Finally, Elliot waved away the shelves, turned around, and leaned back on them with a huff, folding his arms over his chest. "I give up. Why did Father have to drop us off here?"

"Maybe because you asked him to." Leo flipped a page.

"Why did we have to come here, then?" Elliot, at this point, was determined to find _something _to complain about.

"Didn't your father say something about getting a taste of the international political circles, or some nonsense like that?"

"Some nonsense like that, yeah." With a sigh, Elliot closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the books. The smell of old paper and ink was even stronger this close to them. Dust wafted around them, glittering in the sunlight like specks of floating gold.

The front doors burst open with dual bangs. The silent atmosphere shattered. Slightly offbeat footsteps and clanking metal sent a racket over the bookshelves, and Elliot couldn't even see who'd come in. All he knew was that they were incredibly loud, and incredibly rude, obviously, to come charging into a library with that kind of noise.

"I need to see all the records you have on the Ishbal rebellion!" blared a juvenile voice from up front, and the librarian's flustered squeaking followed.

"Uh… er… I-I'm sorry, little boy…"

"HEY WHO ARE YOU CALLING A LITTLE PIPSQUEAK, LADY? DON'T YOU KNOW IT'S RUDE TO MAKE FUN OF PEOPLES' HEIGHTS? I'M FIFTEEN FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, YOU WOULD THINK PEOPLE WOULD GET THIS BY NOW!"

"Hm, he sounds like you," mused Leo, finally looking up from his book just in time to duck down again as Elliot threw the nearest tome at his bespectacled face.

"SHUT UP!" he blared.

"See?" Leo smirked.

"Uh, brother…" came a second voice from the front, younger. Something was extremely off about it, but Elliot couldn't quite place it. "You know, she didn't say that…" The young boy – from the sound of it – sighed. "I apologize for my brother, ma'am. He always does this."

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I AM?" snarled the first voice.

"Um… No?"

"She's probably new here, brother."

It was the first boy's turn to sigh now, and he did so wearily. Elliot smirked, finding the whole unseen scenario very amusing.

"The name's Ed Elric, state alchemist. This is my brother, Alphonse."

The librarian gasped so loud, the sound echoed through the empty building. "Elric… then you must be… the Fullmetal Alchemist!"

Elliot swore he heard something break, but figured he was just hearing things, and rubbed an ear so he could hear the response.

"Um… actually…"

"THAT'S ME, YOU IDIOT! WHY DOES EVERYONE ASSUME IT'S HIM!?"

"Wow, he is _really _like you," Leo repeated, and Elliot tried his hardest to resist the urge to tackle his servant. But of course, that would only serve to prove his point. So he stayed silent.

"I-I'm s-so s-sorry, sir! Please forgive me!"

"Ugh, just show us where we can find that material, and we'll call it square."

"Um… b-but, you see…"

"Colonel Mustang sent me for it, okay!? Is that enough to get us in!?"

There was a long pause, and then the shuffling of feet. "I… I guess… B-But if I get in trouble, I'll be sure that you take the rap for it!"

"…Fair enough."

More footsteps echoed over their heads, and Elliot watched the main aisle to see if they would come back this far. Leo, in the meantime, had returned to his book.

The librarian spoke again. "What you're looking for should be just back there."

"All right, thanks a… lot."

The younger voice – Alphonse, by the introduction – sounded irritated. "Look what you did. You offended her!"

"SHE OFFENDED ME FIRST!"

A loud metallic thunk followed, and then the sound of something heavy thumping on the floor. "You're an idiot, Ed."

"Geez, Al, it's my arm that's made of auto mail, not my head," said the older one, sounding withered this time. That same strange metallic thumping started again.

"Let's just find what we came for, brother. Then we can go back, and you can apologize to her."

"Yeah, sure, whatever…"

The footsteps got louder as they came closer, and unfortunately for Elliot (who was thinking he was finally getting some entertainment), stopped just short of their little corner.

"Was this the aisle she said?" said Ed.

"It was this general area."

"Well, that helps a lot. There's only _hundreds of books in this general area_!"

"If you hadn't been so rude, she probably would have been more specific."

Elliot peered through the bookshelves, trying to catch a glimpse of the patrons that sounded like they were just on the other side. The first thing that caught his attention was a massive suit of blue-grey armor. And it was moving. Well, that was a bit of a strange wardrobe to wear in public… Didn't he get hot in there?

He saw the top of a blond head beside the armor. Judging by the conversation – or explosion, rather – that he'd overheard with the librarian, this was Ed. Because his first assumption would have been that the guy in the armor was the Fullmetal Alchemist (whatever that meant).

Also, the suit of armor would explain the strange tinny sound to Alphonse's voice.

"I guess we should start looking," Ed said. Elliot had to stand on his tiptoes and angle his gaze over the books just right just to be able to see his face. He had gold eyes, like Gilbert. "You start over there, I'll start here."

"Okay."

Contrary to their height, it sounded as if Ed was the older brother, and Alphonse was the younger. It certainly made for an odd sight. As often as he could see them, anyway. Half the time, all he could see was a narrow line of the armor's chestplate, and the top of Ed's hair.

"Wow, he really is short," Elliot muttered, more to himself than to Leo. He glanced back at his servant. "I'd bet he's shorter than that Vessalius brat."

"You really shouldn't talk about people behind their backs," Leo responded absently. "Strangers, or acquaintances."

"YEAH, WHAT DO YOU MEAN, CALLING ME A PUNY LITTLE SHRIMP!? DO YOU MAKE A HABIT OF INSULTING RANDOM PEOPLE IN THE LIBRARY!?"

Elliot jumped, and whirled back to his spy slot, only to meet the gaze of a pair of very angry golden eyes. He raised his eyebrows. Was he climbing on the shelves just so he could look Elliot in the eye?

"Yes, it would seem he does," Leo answered for him.

Elliot threw another book at him. He dodged.

"Twice in five minutes, Ed? Really?" Alphonse sighed.

"HOW IS IT MY FAULT THAT EVERYBODY WHO SEES ME FEELS THE NEED TO COMMENT ON MY HEIGHT?"

"Just let it alone…"

Ed growled, and backed away from the bookshelves. "No way! I'm sick of this!"

"Brother, wait, what are you doing!?"

Ed was clearly making his way around the bookshelf at a march. "Dealing with this jerk!"

"You're both jerks, really," said Leo.

"I can deal with you, too, four-eyes! I can take on both of ya!" With a flourish of his red coat, Ed Elric stepped around the corner into their aisle, glaring up a storm.

Elliot really wasn't impressed. He'd seen scarier things in a litter of kittens. And while a litter of kittens might scare Gilbert to death, Elliot was more of a cat person.

"Aww, looking at the little pipsqueak, Leo; thinks he's so tough."

He heard Leo groan, and thump his face against the book he was reading. "Ugh, Elliot, why…"

Elric nearly burst a vein. "Why I aughta-"

"Oh, did I insult the puny little shrimp? That's too bad. Really. I feel awful." Elliot smirked. Finally, something entertaining. Actually, he might've just been taking out his frustration at the world in general right now on this volatile little brat. "See there? I actually _did _say that."

"AAAAGH I'LL KILL HIM!"

"Brother, stop!" Alphonse swiped at Ed from around the corner, but missed by a second and a half. Ed lunged forward, just as Elliot swung the violin case from his shoulder.

He undid the clasps. Ed raised his left hand in a fist.

A black blade rung against its sheath as it was drawn, and Ed screeched to a halt when the point settled at his throat.

Elliot snickered, and tsked mockingly. "You know, I don't mind being called names. Tit for tat, give and get, and all that. But nobody… insults my valet."

Really, he just wanted a good excuse for a good fight, but the Elrics didn't need to know that.

"Oh, yeah, I'm real scared." Elric took a few steps back, and clapped his hands together. "Chew on this!" Blue light crackled, and a long, broad blade extended from his arm.

A sword. GREW. From his arm.

Elliot stared, dumbfounded, sword arm faltering. "What the…"

"Hm, so this really isn't the fiction section," quipped Leo. "They really have mastered the ultimate form of chemistry here."

"Duh! Haven't you morons seen alchemy before?" Ed held his blade at the ready, looking ready and itching for a battle.

"Can't you hear their voices, brother?" Alphonse stood behind Ed, hands up. He looked just as ready to snatch his shorter brother up as Ed did for a fight. "I don't think they're from around here."

"See, your big brother's smart." Elliot was pleased by the look of rage that intensified on Ed's face. "He actually listens to other people."

"That must mean he's smarter than you, too, Elliot," said Leo.

"OH SHUT UP WOULD YA?"

Ed took the moment to lunge forward again. Elliot planted his feet, hurrying to straighten his sword for impact.

But none came. Ed froze, suspended in the air by a pair of massive metal arms. No matter how he flailed and cursed and wriggled, Alphonse wasn't about to let go, either.

Somehow, Elliot felt a little disappointed. A sigh escaped him as his shoulders sagged.

"LET ME GO AL, I GOTTA KILL THIS GUY!"

"No, you can't!"

"I CAN AND I WILL, DANG IT, I SWEAR! I'LL BEAT THE PULP OUT OF THAT PRETTY FACE UNTIL THERE'S NOTHING LEFT BUT BLACK AND BLUE AND THEN I'LL DISSECT HIM AND RECONSTRUCT HIM AND THEN BURY HIS REMAINS AND THEN DIG THEM BACK UP AND CLONE THEM AND THROTTLE ALL HIS CLONES!"

"Oh yeah, I'm real scared," Elliot deadpanned, sheathing his sword again. Shame, he was really itching to use it…

"AND YOUR VALET, TOO, I'LL TEACH HIM A THING OR TWO!"

Something snapped.

"But why? What did he do, brother?" Alphonse dragged a flailing blur of fists and Ed back.

"I DON'T KNOW! JUST LET ME AT 'EM!"

With a wave of nausea, everything went dark.

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><p><em>"Brother…"<em>

_"JUST SHUT UP, AL, AND LET ME GO!"_

_"Brother, you'd better stop."_

_"WHY SHOULD I? I'D SAY I HAVE A GOOD REASON TO BE UPSET!"_

_"Ed, look!"_

_"E-Elliot…"_

_Glen. Glen. _

_The pipsqueak had threatened Glen. GlEn MuSt Be PrOtEcTeD. AT ALL COSTS. All he had was that delicate sword. This small human was powerful, and without the assistance of the Abyss, it seemed…_

_Perhaps he would need his true form for this. Not too much. Too much would tax his symbiotic human. He couldn't afford to use up time to quickly, now. Not now. Glen was still in danger. Always in danger. GlEn NeEdEd HiM._

_"ELLIOT, NO!"_

_The Elrics shrieked._

_Humpty Dumpty laughed._

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><p>Ed had to try very hard to keep his gaze from drifting to the door on the far side of the room. The door behind which lay the jerk he'd met at the library, unconscious. Ever since Alphonse knocked him out, he hadn't woken back up. Leo, the kid with the big round glasses, seemed pretty concerned.<p>

But not so much about his master's health, it seemed. More about what Ed and Al saw. Obviously, it was something they weren't supposed to see.

"What was that thing?" he said quietly as Leo set out tea. Maybe it was his way of apologizing for everything that had happened. The china was extremely fine; but that might've just come from the fact that they were sitting in the parlor of the massive suite that these guys were staying at during their time in Amestris.

Leo glanced up from pouring the tea, only for a second. No matter how hard he tried, Ed couldn't see his eyes under all that black hair, plus the lenses. "…Our country has its secrets, just as I'm willing to bet yours does."

"Well, for some knowledge on that kind of power, I'd be willing to swap some stories." Ed leaned his elbows on his knees.

Leo set the kettle back down on the tray with a little more force than was probably necessary when he was finished pouring. "It's not a power, idiot."

Ed swallowed, covering it up with a nervous chuckle. "Hey, take it easy! How was I supposed to know?"

The black-haired boy didn't laugh along, or even relax. In fact, as he sat down on the sofa, he remained rigid and tense.

"It's not his fault," Leo muttered.

Ed raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about? Why would it be anybody's fault?"

At this, Ed woulda swore he saw Leo flinch.

"It's… a long story."

"We have time."

"Is Elliot in some sort of trouble?" Al asked quietly, his metallic voice interrupting the somber atmosphere and saturating it with legitimate concern.

For a long time, Leo studied them in silent. It was unnerving really; Ed had no idea what was going on behind that solemn face because he couldn't see his eyes. And that made him nervous.

Finally, Leo sighed. "It… Well… You're state authorities here, right?"

Ed blinked. "Well, yeah, I am."

"Maybe I'd feel better about saying something if you ordered me to tell you the truth."

Say what now? Eyebrows raising, Ed stared at the older boy – he was older right? That was the only reason why he was a little taller than him… - in shock. "Um… Okay… Tell us the truth."

Then, Leo took a breath, and began to weave a fantastic story. A story about a lonely orphan boy, and a brash scion of a noble house. About their meeting, their fighting, and eventually their friendship. A story that led to the scion asking the orphan to be his personal servant, and to come and live at a rich manor house, to live in luxury rather than poverty. To actually have a family again. A story that included the scion's cruel older siblings, and quiet, mysterious adopted siblings. A story that eventually ended up in a giant hole in the ground, a gateway to a realm that Leo called 'the Abyss'. A place of endless darkness and terror, contrary to what some of his countrymen said.

And there, in a place called Sablier, Ed began to get really interested.

"We kept going further and further; the children had wandered more than we thought." Leo swallowed, and then continued whispering, as if somebody was nearby that wasn't supposed to hear a word of what he was telling them. "And then… we found them."

"W-What happened to them?" Al asked when it seemed like Leo would stop there.

The valet sighed. "They were dead. They'd been impaled. One more little girl was sitting a ways away, in hysterics. I was just starting to get the story out of her when… it showed up."

"It?" Ed wondered if Leo always told stories like this, pausing for effect and using vague phrasing for suspense.

"A Chain."

A what?

"A creature of the Abyss – as I found out later, one that hadn't been seen actively for decades. One of the children had made a contract with it… It was huge, and hovering right over us."

"Was that the thing we saw today?" Ed asked.

Leo nodded somberly.

The memory of that giant bulbous creature materializing behind Elliot, deformed with numerous limbs and blank, empty holes for its many eyes, mouth gaping wide and lined with row upon row of teeth, its tongue slashing through the air like a twenty-foot blade… Yeah, Ed could admit it had made him squeak just a little.

He glanced at Al, who shuddered.

Okay, maybe a little more than squeak, but whatever.

"Elliot… Elliot pulled out his sword, and charged the thing; he was just trying to protect me. How was he supposed to know that it wouldn't dare harm a hair on my head… Then again, it didn't know that Elliot was the same way. And so… thinking that Elliot was charging _me_ rather than it… the Chain ran him through with that tongue of its."

Ed's eyes widened. But that meant… "How the heck is he still alive, then? If what you say is true, this was two years ago."

"It was. The Chain is what kept him alive; its known powers are… well, forgetting. Covering up. It sealed the wound as if it had never happened, delaying the inevitable for at least… a while. And next time we talked about it, I discovered that that covering up applied to memory as well. Elliot was… confused. But those of us that knew what really happened – his father and I – spun a slightly believable story for him. Duke Nightray didn't want anyone knowing that his son was an illegal contractor."

"Illegal?" Ed and Al shared a glance.

Leo waved away the question. "It's just another long story. It's a bad thing, that's all."

"So, what does he _think_ happened?" Al's turn to question.

"Since then, he's been under the impression that he slipped and hit his head on a rock. And he's extremely embarrassed about it."

"I can imagine," Ed snorted. "I do have another question though – how did _you_ know that the Chain would do that? Save him, I mean."

Leo straightened, hesitating. "Well… I had a little help, I suppose."

"From who? The kids?" Ed frowned, hearing Leo's hesitance and wonder just how deep this story went.

"No… I…" Leo sighed, hanging his head. "Oh, who cares about secrets anymore; it's going to come out sooner or later, and it's not like you two are from my country anyway… I am who everybody in my country knows as 'the next Glen Baskerville'. It's a noble house that was blamed for the tragedy that dragged that city down… and the Glen is the head of it."

"But why are you a servant, then?" Al asked innocently.

"I was hiding from it. I used to just think I was weird, but then… on that incident, the voices in my head grew faces, and I realized what they actually were – past Glens, all of them. That's how it works. And the Chain, Humpty Dumpty, was just trying to protect me as its leader when it thought Elliot was going to hurt me."

Al gasped. "So, when Ed threatened you in the library, even if he didn't mean it…"

"Humpty Dumpty doesn't know the difference. It saw you as a threat to me." Leo gave Ed an apologetic look.

Ed was still trying to wrap his head around all this. It was bizarre, granted, but so was alchemy to outsiders, and as Leo had said – his country had its secrets just the same as Amestris. "I had no idea…"

"How could you? It usually doesn't show itself like that." Leo rubbed a hand over his forehead. "I just… I'm sorry. You could have been killed."

"But I wasn't."

Alphonse nodded. "And it's not your fault."

"Yes, it is! Don't you get it?" If Ed could see his eyes, Leo would probably have been glaring. "If it weren't for me, he wouldn't have the Chain. His… his siblings wouldn't have been murdered; it got blamed on a serial killer called the Headhunter, but I don't believe a word of it. His oldest brother turned up dead and beheaded, and Humpty Dumpty is a mimicker. It passed the blame. If it weren't for me, Elliot wouldn't be having nightmares that keep him up night after night, he wouldn't forget things that he'd normally remember."

"And if it weren't for you, he'd be dead," Ed interrupted matter-of-factly. "Geez, don't be so hard on yourself. You did more than any normal person could have in that position."

"But… The last Glen himself told me, and it's true, that if it weren't for me being the next Glen, Humpty Dumpty wouldn't have felt the need to protect me from what he saw as potential harm. If I wasn't Glen… if I was just a normal kid like everybody else, he would have lived."

"He's alive now," Al insisted, and Ed nodded curtly. "Shouldn't you be happy for that?"

"It's barely living. It's all just a façade. Elliot thinks everything is fine… but everything's so wrong, and one of these days, the seal is going to complete, no matter what Duke Nightray did with the House of Fianna, and… and that will be a worse fate than death for him. And it's all because of me."

Ed sighed heavily. Boy, these guys had really gotten themselves in a fix. Leo had a point; it did seem like everything pointed to him, but a guilt complex like that really couldn't be healthy. This whole story sounded like some kind of tragedy play, where everything went wrong and all the heroes died. If he was in Leo's place, and Al in Elliot's, he'd probably be in the same shape, though. He already had a hard time not struggling with the fact that, no, Al didn't blame him for what happened to them. He had to constantly reassure himself of that, and it kept him sane. But Leo… he had to keep it all a secret from his friend. He had to hold it all in. Maybe he had convinced himself that Elliot would blame him if he knew, but since he didn't, Leo just blamed himself.

"Leo?"

The three sitting around the coffee table jumped, and whirled to face the voice that had come out from the bedroom. Elliot himself stood in the doorway, hand resting on the doorknob. And by the conflicted expression on his face, he'd been there just long enough…

Leo visibly gulped.

Now Ed felt sorry for him.

"All this…" Elliot frowned, staring at the floor, absently rubbing a place on his chest. "When were you planning on telling me?"

"I… Elliot…"

"Didn't you think I might want to know this stuff!?" Elliot spat.

Leo's face hardened. "I tried once, and you wouldn't listen!"

"Well, that wasn't _my_ fault!"

Ed glanced at his brother. Al glanced back, nodded, and they both gripped the nearest pillow. Alphonse threw his at Elliot, while Ed aimed for Leo. Leo ducked; cheeky four-eyes must've been used to having things thrown at him for those kind of reflexes. Elliot, on the other hand, did not, and the pillow easily silenced him by thumping in his face.

"Stop it!" Al snapped. "You two arguing about it isn't going to change, or help anything!"

"Help?" Elliot gripped the pillow in a fist. "You think anything could actually _help_ this situation?"

"Well, we used to be searching for something that might've helped…" Al glanced at Ed again, who nodded.

"Something called the philosopher's stone," he finished.

"But?" Elliot grumbled, coming closer just to drop the pillow back between them on the sofa.

"But… well, let's just say, we've given up that search." Ed didn't want to think about what they'd found out through Marcoh's research.

"We could take them to Dr. Marcoh, brother," said Al.

Ed wrinkled his nose. "That guy's so wrapped in red tape right now, he looks like a mummy… There's no way the Fuhrer would let us take two foreigners to see him. Besides, he doesn't have the stone anymore, remember?"

"Oh, yeah…"

"You're not really helping." Elliot stood over them, and folded his arms with that same arrogant air that made Ed fume.

"We're tryin', here, pal, so why don't you come down off your high horse and help us brainstorm!?" Ed barked, only to be whapped by his brother. As he clutched his smarting head, Al sighed.

"Don't you start too, brother."

"Could you try to remember when you're hitting me that you're kinda made of a GIANT SUIT OF ARMOR!?"

Al didn't say anything back, and so Ed took a deep breath, and let it out slow. "Okay. Thinking."

He glanced up at the noble standing behind them. Every once in a while, it almost looked like Elliot was in pain. Was continuing to remember what really happened physically painful or something? That could cause some problems.

"How long will you guys be here in Central?" he finally asked.

Leo shook his head. "Not long. The duke has a few political to-doings, and then we're heading back home."

"With everything that's going on politically right now, it might take a little longer than you think. But… If we're on a time constraint, we'll have to think of something fast…"

"Unless they stayed here," said Al cheerily. "Then we wouldn't have to worry about it, and we could actually take the time to think of something that would work."

"They could." Ed offered them both a grin. "What do you guys think of Central? Is it a place you could hang around for a while?"

The foreigners exchanged glances. Elliot shrugged, and winced when he did so. Leo stared at him for a moment longer, and then nodded.

"I'd say we could. Especially now."

"The trouble will be convincing my father, but as we're on break at the moment, it shouldn't be too hard…" Elliot mused.

"Great!" Al's eyes seemed to smile with his voice.

"I'm sure in order for anything we say to you from now on to make sense, we'll probably have to tell you a little about-"

Somebody pounded on the suite's main door. "Elric brothers! I know you're in there! Why did you just up and disappear from the library like that!? We had no idea where you were! Colonel Mustang had us searching everywhere! He needs to see you right away about an incident at the library today that you were seen fleeing from!"

Ed sunk down in his seat, grumbling under his breath. Oh, of all times, why now…

"Who's that?" Leo asked.

"Ross… eh, she's…"

"One of our bodyguards," finished Al.

"Fantastic," Elliot muttered.

"If the Colonel's looking for us, brother, we should probably go." Al glanced at Ed, and then rose to his feet, towering over the rest of them.

Ed sighed, and stood as well. "Yeah, I guess."

"Elric brothers!"

"We're coming, we're coming!" Ed yelled at the door. Then he glanced between their two new acquaintances. "Hey, you wanna join us?"

"…Will they be all right with that?" Leo blinked at them.

"Sure! Why wouldn't they be?" Ed grinned, moving toward the door.

"We'll come only if, after this meeting with this colonel, you explain that metal arm of yours," said Elliot in all seriousness, eyes hard. "And why your brother wears that stuff."

"Deal. Come on! We ain't getting any younger standing around here!" Ed was the first out the door, and he darted past Ross and Brosh before they could say anything. Al's appearance and greeting threw them off even more, and they just sighed and sagged against the wall in exasperation.

Ed wasn't really in a hurry to see Mustang; no doubt, he would have a lot of explaining to do. He wasn't even entirely sure how he was gonna go about explaining. Right now, with everything happening as it was, a side incident with a foreign power was the last thing the military needed. He'd have to keep it simple and vague; tit for tat, an eye for an eye. The jerk deserved a taste of his own medicine. But the sooner Ed got this meeting over with, the sooner he could swap information with these two foreigners. All this talk of Chains and seals sounded interesting.

Elliot jogged up beside him, and fell into step. Ed couldn't help but notice that he was walking at a slower pace just to stay that way, though, and he stifled a grumble. Stupid tall people and their long strides… This kid wasn't even that much taller than him! Why was the world so unfair?

"So, Shorty," said Elliot, smirking as if he knew exactly what Ed was thinking, "who's this Colonel Mustang guy?"

"WHO THE HECK ARE YOU CALLING A WIMPY LITTLE SHORTY SMALLER THAN A FLEA, YOU BIG-MOUTHED JERK!?"

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><p><strong>AN: Well... that strayed into AU territory quickly. O.o**


	2. Fullmetal Heart

**A/N: Okay, so I've got quite the number of requests to continue this fic (you know, like, 3)... and I have some ideas of how to combine the worlds of FMA and Pandora Hearts, so... we'll see how this goes. I'll try to keep updating as long as the ideas come. XP**

**So, this one's a little long... a little dramatic... and ends with the (re)introduction of our villain.**

**Let me know what y'all think of this continuation of Central Library in the reviews! I love to get feedback, and it's reviews that help keep me writing fanfics. God bless you all!**

**~Penelope**

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><p>Elliot stood at the center of the massive intricate circle drawn in chalk on the floor, trying his best to keep his heart in his chest. Against his will, it hammered against his ribs as he ran his cobalt eyes over each arc and angle and criss-crossing line, ever little rune and figure. Ed said this would do it. Al backed his brother's claim. He and Leo had been studying for months. Months of him trying not to let Humpty Dumpty force him to forget again.<p>

Some mornings, he'd wake up and not remember where he was – Amestris – and Leo had gotten into the habit of summing up every morning what they had been through up to that day, so often were Elliot's forgetful spells. Elliot hated it, feeling so lost in those moments.

But now, it could end. It should end. Leo, using the skills Ed and Al had taught him, would banish the wretched Chain from him and close the open wounds it left behind. He would be free. Or so they said.

"Ed, are you… are you sure this is a good idea?" Winry Rockbell, Ed's mechanic, said from her place standing by the door, hands clasped pensively in front of her.

The Elrics had brought them to Resembool about a month previous, after their time studying in Central. They'd been in the country a grand total of four months, during which Bernard Nightray, against his better judgment, had left them at their request (their excuse had been foreign study), and Leo had shown exceptional prowess in alchemy.

Probably all those years doing nothing but reading. Or something like that.

The basement of Granny Pinako's home provided adequate space for their operation, though Granny herself had a few qualms about how similar what they were doing was to full-out human transmutation, which apparently, was a taboo among the Amestrians. When Granny had said that, Elliot swore he'd seen Ed flinch, but it might've just been his imagination.

All this time with them, and Elliot felt they hardly knew the Elric brothers.

And yet, they were trusting their teaching with their lives.

He only hoped it would work like they claimed.

"What other choice do they have, Winry?" Ed replied quietly, looking over the circle for the third time to be sure everything was in order.

"I know, but… Granny doesn't like it, and neither do I."

"You don't have to like it. We still have to do it."

"You mean Leo does."

Said bespectacled boy was hovering behind Ed and Al, near the wall, looking paler than usual and stiff as he leaned against the brick basement wall in anxious anticipation.

Ed didn't respond at first, and when he did after a few moments of tense silence, it wasn't to Winry. Instead, he turned around to look at Leo, an expression of grim determination on his face. "Are you ready?"

Leo jumped like he hadn't expected to be addressed, lost in thought. That was typical, though. With a shaky nod, he stood up and took a few steps away from the wall. "Yes."

"You're sure?"

"Whether I'm sure or not doesn't make a difference." Taking a deep breath, Leo approached the circle and stared at Elliot.

Elliot couldn't see anything behind those glasses and bangs. That always frustrated him. The moments when he could really use the hint of emotion through a gaze, Leo's was always hidden. He'd seen his eyes once, but Leo had never again let his guard down to let it happen again. Still, Elliot had the feeling that no matter how much assurance he felt he could use, Leo needed a double portion. Once again, the life of one rested solely in the hands of the other.

That was a lot of pressure, even for Glen Baskerville.

"What about you, Elliot?" Leo finally muttered. "Are you ready for this?"

His gaze darted back to the circle he had been so intently studying a moment before, and he felt his fists clench and unclench with nerves. "Sure."

Leo's mouth tightened; he wasn't convinced, but then again, neither was anyone in the room.

Ed sighed heavily, stepping back to allow Leo space beside the circle edge, and Al followed suit, metallic footsteps clanking. "All right. We have all the automail parts ready and waiting for when you come back from the Gate, if you go to the Gate at all. What you're about to do dances on the edge of legality, but… Equivalent Exchange demands that something of equal value be given in order to receive. We have no way of knowing what that's gonna be."

Right. On top of everything, there was a chance that Leo would lose some part of him in order to restore Elliot. Was this all really fair?

Leo took a deep breath at the reminder, and let it out in a huff. "Uh-huh." Slowly, he knelt beside the array, and stared down at the white lines. Elliot, knowing that it was about time, sank down to sit cross-legged on the floor at its center.

Would it hurt? It was a silly, childish instinct, but he couldn't help wondering. What was going to happen? Was it going to be painful? Severing Humpty Dumpty's contract would not only reopen those old wounds, but it would effectively be like pulling off a leech. And he could only imagine that that wouldn't be the most pleasant of feelings.

"Here we go…" Leo hesitated a single moment longer, and then pressed his fingertips to the edge of the circle.

The lines of chalk lit up blue. The lights flickered. The blue turned dark purple.

Elliot's world went dark as foreign voices infiltrated his mind. He felt a sharp, painful tug in his chest and lurched forward, felt that old wound gape open once more as an animalistic screech of pain tore through the air, and blood pour from his chest where the Chain had long ago impaled him. The life drained out of him, bit by bit, until the flesh began to mend itself, knitting back together at a painstakingly slow pace.

He lost consciousness.

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_Leo!"_

_"__Quick, Ed, the bandages! Grab everything!"_

_"__Brother, l-look!"_

_"__What?...Oh no…"_

_"__What?"_

_"__Oh my gosh, Winry, quick! Bring the heart, the heart! He isn't going to last very long like this; we have to hurry! Now!"_

_"__He's bleeding out, brother; we only have seconds!"_

_"__WINRY, HURRY!"_

_"__I'm hurrying!"_

_"__Hang in there, Leo, just hang on…"_

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_It's time to wake up, now, boy. And don't get your hopes up; you're going to be in pain for a while."_

With a groan, he carefully opened his eyes and stared at the wooden planks in the ceiling. It was dark, but not nighttime dark. More like the dark of a room on the sunless side of a house, without a candle or a lamp to keep things lit properly. Stars swirled in front of his eyes until he blinked them away.

It wasn't home, but it wasn't the Rockbells' basement either. No, it was… it was his room, where he was boarding.

Wait… the transmutation. Did this mean… that it worked?

A groan escaped him as he turned his head, groping for the edge of the bed. What happened? Where was everybody?

_"__Easy. Moving probably isn't your best option right now, is it? It's not every day you're given someone else's DNA."_

DN… what? Who was talking? He looked around the room, searching for the source of the voice, but there was nobody there.

"Who…?" he moaned, rubbing his forehead.

_"__I know you already. I've watched you from behind glass for about two years. But of course, you wouldn't know me. He never told you about me, or any of us. Wanted to keep us a secret."_

"What are you talking about?" he grumbled, though it was more of a rhetorical question and he didn't expect an answer. The speaker, however, didn't even get the chance.

"Elliot?" came Al's voice from the other side of the door, quiet and unassuming. "Are you awake?"

Carefully, he sat up and for the first time, noticed his lack of shirt and the presence of bandages wrapped tightly around his torso. He moved slowly to avoid disturbing the wound further. "Yes."

"Winry thought she heard you talking," the suit of armor said, entering the room after quietly opening the door. "How long have you been up?"

"Only a minute or two…" Elliot frowned at the hoarseness of his voice, and rubbed his throat, clearing it with a few forced coughs. "Hey, was there anyone else outside the door?"

Al looked confused, as much as a metal helmet could look confused. "No… why?"

"Just wondering." Strange. Who was speaking to him, then…?

_"__Not anybody that you can see, so don't confuse the poor lad."_

Who the-!? Elliot tried to keep a straight face to avoid having to explain to Al that he was hearing voices. That didn't seem like the smartest idea at the moment.

"How are you feeling?" Al asked, moving on with ease.

"Like I got hit by a train," Elliot mumbled, rubbing at his chest and wincing at the dull pain that emanated from under the bandage, where Humpty Dumpty's wound had been. He thought Ed had said that the transmutation would heal the wounds…

"Understandable… sort of." Al sounded hesitant, and more than a little confused.

"I thought the wounds were supposed to be healed," Elliot said, frowning up at the younger boy. It still felt odd thinking of Al like that, considering he was at least a head and a half taller than Elliot himself, and more often than not was the tallest person in the room at all times. Except when that guy, Armstrong, was around…

"They were!" Al blurted. "And they are… sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Yes… They're healing much faster than normal, but they weren't completely healed when the transmutation was finished."

"I should be dead, then." It made no sense.

To either of them, it seemed. Al seemed lost as well. "We worried you would be… but you didn't die even though you lost a lot of blood. We're not sure how or why."

_"__Ask Leo. He'll know."_

Leo. Oh, crud, how could he forget! "Leo! Where's Leo?" Elliot bolted upright, and almost doubled over at the sharp pain that thudded through his chest down his spine. Spots of golden light swarmed his vision, and he closed his eyes, trying to block them out, but they remained.

"Be careful!" Al jumped forward to steady him, but Elliot shrugged him off.

His bare feet were cold on the polished wood floor, and as the pain subsided, the low temperature of the room became more apparent. Though, the fact that he was missing socks or shirt of any sort probably contributed to that. Reaching back, he snatched up the blanket off his bed and shrugged it over his shoulders, wrapping it around himself.

"You shouldn't be up yet," Al urged, the same mother-hen as always.

Elliot shook his head. "I have to see him. Is he okay?"

"Um…"

"Take me to him, Al, dang it!"

"All right, all right!"

With a look of as much reluctant chagrin as a metal face could manage, Al proceeded to lead him out of the room, into the quiet upstairs hallway of the Rockbells' residence. Instead of taking him to one of the other bedrooms, the suit of armor descended down the stairs and into the operating room. Well, it was an operating room of sorts, anyway.

And on the gurney lay Leo himself. He was pale and still, with dark grey circles shadowing his eyes, which were slightly easier to see without his glasses. His dark bangs hung over his face like a stringy curtain, his hair damp and splayed over the single white pillow. A thin sheet lay over him, covering him up to his neck.

Elliot's brow furrowed. What had happened to him to make him like this?

"Leo? Elliot's up!" Al said quietly, approaching the bedside.

Sluggish and slow, Leo rotated his head to face them, and a small smile tugged at his mouth. "Hi."

"The heck happened to you?" Elliot didn't miss a beat.

"Stupid. I should be worried about you… did it work?"

Elliot glanced at Al, who shrugged, before dragging up a chair and sitting on it backwards to face his friend and servant. "We think so… Al said the wounds are still there, but they haven't killed me yet."

"I see…" Leo raised his dull gaze to Al. "How long was I unconscious this time?"

Elliot hadn't even thought of that, and he turned to the suit of armor to hear the answer as well.

"Um… two days?"

Two… _days_? The breath escaped Elliot in a sharp gasp. Two whole days? Was that normal?

"Mm…"

_"__You're stalling."_

Frowning, Elliot cleared his throat, and addressed the younger Elric. "Hey, Al, could I talk to Leo alone for a minute?"

"Huh? Oh, um, sure. Let me know if you need anything!" Al nodded, waved awkwardly to Leo, and then exited as lightly as he could. Which, really, wasn't light at all, and his receding footsteps could be heard long after he disappeared from sight.

"Leo, were we really out for two days?" Elliot asked as soon as he was sure Al was on the other side of the house.

Leo blinked, hesitating before he answered. "I was… You were out for five."

_"__Not surprising."_

For a long time, Elliot couldn't really respond. How was he supposed to respond? He'd been unconscious for a full five days? Almost a week? "But… how…"

"I'm not sure yet."

He was unconscious for five days… Leo was out for two… but why? Why had Leo been unconscious at all? He asked as much, which made Leo visibly flinch, and take a slow, deep breath. The breath hitched, he grimaced, and then tried to let it out slowly.

"Ed said something about a rebound… how unpredictable it was. And the whole thing about the Gate… we weren't sure how close to human transmutation we were treading."

"Get to the point, Leo." Elliot wasn't in the mood for the runaround.

"…I arrived at the Gate… I offered…" Leo coughed anxiously. "Everything that made me a Baskerville."

"WHAT!? Are you insane!?" Elliot burst, and then actually thought about what he said. "Wait… 'made'? What does that mean?"

"…The Gate took a little more than expected," Leo continued, effortlessly dodging the question and starting to sit up with a pained expression.

"Leo, you shouldn't…" Elliot's protest died on his tongue.

The valet, propping himself on the pillow, had pulled away the sheet to reveal a massive contraption of polished steel that seemed to have attached itself to Leo's torso since the last time Elliot saw him. From his sternum, across the left side of his chest, and all the way down his left arm, flesh had been replaced with metal. It glinted in the glow of the few light bulbs nestled in the ceiling, and the dim, cold sunlight that streamed in from outside.

Elliot started to say something, but found no words coming to mind.

Leo, pushing away the pain in his face to replace it with grim determination, lowered his brow in concentration and stared down at the artificial appendage. Bearings and pumps clanked, wires shifting, and the arm rose slowly, lifting the hand to hover out in front of the raven-haired boy. He swiveled his hand – _his _hand, this metal hand – round at the wrist, wriggling his steel fingers as gears whirred.

That was automail.

Leo had lost his arm.

Like Ed. But Ed's didn't go that far over his torso… Elliot had seen it once when the foursome had had a run-in with what the Elrics called 'homunculi' – artificial human creatures – by the names of Envy and Lust.

Ed's arm rested in a socket in his shoulder, and ended there. Leo's covered half his chest! Why?

"What else?" Elliot finally managed to say, eyes hard. "It's not just the arm, is it?"

Leo leaned back again, sinking down against the pillow as exhaustion took over his face. "No."

"So what else?"

"…" Leo actually gave a dry laugh. "As cheesy as it sounds, that Gate literally took a piece of my heart."

There was a brief moment of silence.

Leo spoke what Elliot was thinking before he got the chance to actually say it. "I know. I should be dead. And I would've been, without my Baskerville blood… but Granny and Winry got the automail set in record time. Apparently, half of my heart is now an artificial pacemaker that runs off changes in air pressure from heat. Or… something like that."

After thinking this over for a long moment, Elliot's frown only deepened. "Without your Baskerville blood… It took that _and _your arm and heart?"

"Yes."

_"__And put it somewhere else."_

Elliot gritted his teeth. "Leo, what the _h***_ are these voices in my head!? They said that you would know what I'm talking about, or am I just going insane now!?"

Leo went stiff, and stared at Elliot with wide eyes. That only frustrated Elliot further. There was something that Leo knew that he still wasn't telling him, and he hated it!

"…Do you see the lights?"

Elliot scowled. "Lights!? What l…"

_"__You know what he means."_

The stars when he woke up. And when he stood.

"Lights… I-wha… Yeah, but what does that mean?"

Leo looked concerned. "And… the voice told you to ask me about it?"

The voice. Singular. Elliot had said 'voices'. How did Leo know it was only one? "Yes."

"And your wounds… they're still there, but you're still alive…" Leo seemed thoughtful, pensive.

"Leo, would you just tell me what's going on!?"

"…When I was Glen… I hid my eyes with glasses because I hated seeing the lights. And I drowned out the other Glens for years. And Baskervilles can't be killed by normal means, even by fatal wounds…"

_It's not every day you're giving someone else's DNA._

_I've watched you from behind glass for about two years._

_"__They're healing much faster than normal, but they weren't completely healed when the transmutation was finished."_

_"__I offered… everything that made me a Baskerville."_

_You know what he means._

He jerked when it hit him like an avalanche of bricks, and with a flail, he tottered backward off the chair and onto the floor. Pain tore through his torso, making him scream through his teeth in pain.

"Elliot!"

"I'm Glen!?" Elliot gasped, not listening, raking his hands through his hair and pulling roughly on it. "I'm… What… No!" He squeezed his eyes shut.

_A pool surrounded him, with fluttering golden lights and swirling white figures. Someone circled close to him, trailing a lengthy blood-red cloak._

_"__Well, this is a first," said the stranger. His face and dark hair seemed so naggingly familiar, it was almost painful. "We've never transferred hosts while the chosen Glen was still alive."_

_"__Who the heck are you!?" Elliot snapped at the man who spoke with the selfsame voice that had been invading his thoughts since he woke up._

_"__Calm down. You'll get used to it."_

_"__Answer me! WHO ARE YOU!?"_

_The man kept a solemn gaze leveled at him for a long moment, as the other figures continued to spin around them. Then, he answered._

_"__My name is Glen Baskerville." He nodded to the other faceless figures. "They are also Glen Baskerville. And as of now, so are you."_

_"__NO! I will NEVER be one of YOU! EVER!"_

He opened his eyes. His breaths came harsh and fast, he was hyperventilating, trying and failing to retain a grasp on reality. Where was he? The Rockbells! Who was he? Elliot Nightray! That would never, ever change! Never! And Leo, Leo was right there, his friend, just like he always was. Leo was Leo. Elliot was Elliot.

_"__Nightray won't do now, you know. It would be more appropriate to take your rightful name."_

"No!" he rasped, rubbing his eyes to try and ward away the floating lights. "I am Elliot Nightray! I am Elliot Nightray!"

"Elliot, it's all right!"

"Leo, what's going on!?"

"Help him!"

Hands – three metal, one flesh – grasped his arms and helped him up to his feet. The blanket was draped over his shoulders again. Someone sat him down in the chair, facing forward, while someone else – Winry? – said something about tea and bustled off.

They were talking in muffled, hurried voices, Ed, Al, Leo. Ed and Al glanced at Elliot in shock.

Elliot held his hands up to watch them tremble. Why couldn't he make them stop? What was wrong with him!? He needed to get a hold of himself!

He didn't realize he was staring at nothing until his view was disrupted. Winry offered him a mug of steaming tea.

"Here, Elliot."

"…Thanks."

Letting the steam wash over his face, he took a sip and then a deep breath, letting it out slow.

"Are you okay, Elliot?" Al asked with concern.

Hesitating, Elliot eventually nodded. "I think so…"

_"__Are you always such a liar?"_

"Shut up…"

"We didn't say anything." Ed frowned.

"Not you."

"Then… oh, right…"

"Yeah."

Leo, sitting up on the operating bed, glanced between all of them. "…What are we supposed to do now, then?"

"What?" Elliot scoffed. "Now that I'm Glen Baskerville, and you're stuck with a limb and half a heart of metal?"

"Yeah, now that that's happened."

He sighed. "I have no idea."

"Well… Brother and I are out to get _our_ bodies back… What if you joined us?" Al chirped with hope tainting his voice.

"You mean… you still think there's a way to do that?" Leo frowned. It was odd seeing his expressions without his glasses. "I though the Philosopher's Stone was a flop…"

"It was. But we aren't giving up. We're still going to find a way to do it." Ed looked at them with a stern, determined gaze. "If we keep searching, we're bound to find a way to do it, and when that happens, we can get you two back to normal as well! What do you say?"

"But… What about home?" Leo turned to Elliot.

A slow sigh escaped him, and he shook his head. "How can we go home like this? Think of what it'll cause. We have to fix things first…"

"Are you sure?"

No, he wasn't. Elliot wanted to go home. He wanted to go about his regular business, pretend none of this had ever happened. That everything would be as it was.

But there was always that point where too much had happened… and there was no turning back…

Now wasn't it. If there was a chance to turn things back to normal, he'd take it. And that chance rested in Ed and Al's search, not in returning home.

"Yes." Elliot nodded. "I am."

"Great!" Al smiled, as much as a suit of armor could smile.

Ed folded his arms, confident. "First things first – Leo, we should take you to try for State Alchemist. With your skills, you could easily pass their tests."

"Maybe Elliot should try, too, now that he's the Glen! Maybe he'd have a knack, too!"

Elliot stopped listening, and instead met Leo's gaze. Leo offered him an encouraging smile, and a small nod of his head.

After a short moment, Elliot smiled and nodded back.

Yes. If there was a chance, he'd take it. And there was, and he would.

* * *

><p>Golden eyes slid open, pupils dilating and contracting until they adjusted to the dim light of the lair after a long doze. Not bothering to fight a yawn, he sat up straighter in his temporary throne and glanced about to see if any of his children were currently present. He'd felt a disturbance in the Pulse of the Abyss, the signal of a dangerous transmutation, but was limited in his ability to detect from what direction it came.<p>

None of his homunculi were in sight. Envy must have still been out with Lust, keeping an eye on that Hughes soldier fellow. Nosy humans, don't know what's good for them… If they'd only just stop meddling with his plans, no one would get hurt, and they'd all die a painless (or, possibly excruciating) death on the Promised Day.

"Hmm…" he mused to himself. The Abyss had alerted him, and yet he had no clue as to why and no pawns to send out to investigate. That was usually Envy's job; foolish boy as he was, he was excellent at gathering useful intelligence.

And Gluttony… who knew where he was. He usually followed Lust about like a mindless puppy dog, but he'd been forbidden to accompany her on this important stealth detail. Envy and Lust could blend in. Gluttony could not. And while the portly creature might've been helpful in this new investigative endeavor – having a nose like a bloodhound and a failed portal of Truth in one's belly had its perks – recruiting his help would only work if he was actually present.

A voice rose from the shadows down a corridor to the far left. "What is the matter, Father?"

A slow smile spread over Father's face. Ah, just in time, his star pupil, the best and brightest of his creations.

"Pride," he purred, leaning his elbows on his knees. "I have a short assignment for you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: For anyone who's wondering, Leo performing a transmutation on Elliot was a bit of a tricky situation... I wasn't sure if it would count as human transmutation. But the more I thought about it, the more I figured that technically, the only thing keeping Elliot alive was Humpty Dumpty, so Leo might as well be performing human transmutation - since for all intents and purposes, he's trying to bring Elliot back to life, or at least back from the brink of death. And Truth found the loophole of using Leo's Baskerville status as payment to keep Elliot alive, and then his arm and part of his heart were taken as payment for getting rid of Humpty Dumpty altogether. **

**Does that make any sense? XP I'm hoping it does...**


	3. Shattered Ruse

**AND I RETURN FROM THE DEAD TO THE LAND OF FANFICTION. **

**I am so, so, SO sorry for the long wait for ANY updates whatsoever, but life does this thing where it gets in the way of stuff you'd much rather do and it's really, really annoying... but I just really missed writing these things, so I figured I'd better update _something_. Here's hoping it's the first of many.**

**Basically, what I'll be doing with this fic is inserting Elly and Leo into core scenes/plot points in hopes of seeing how things might've been different had they gotten involved. Let's face it, Elliot knows how to stick his nose where it doesn't belong, and be extremely stubborn at it. He's not the type to just let things lie. So. **

**Here we go with the next installment.**

**WARNING: Spoilers-ish for episode 10 of Brotherhood.**

**Enjoy! :D Leave a review?**

**~Penelope**

* * *

><p>Watching Hughes with his daughter could be painful. In different ways. For one, it was just uncomfortable to watch a full-grown man coo and squeal like a schoolgirl. But on the other hand… Elliot had never known affection like that.<p>

Not the excessive picture-taking and cheek-pinching. But the genuine warmth of a father who wasn't afraid to let the whole world know that he loved his family.

In a way, it made having to stay in Central not so bad. The trip from Resembool after the transmutation hadn't been easy on him… Leo had managed to suck it up despite the fact that it usually took years for people to adjust to automail. But while Elliot's wounds were healing, it was a slow process. Baskerville blood obviously wasn't as efficient as whatever made those homunculi heal instantly. And now, while his friends were off to Rush Valley and Dublith, he was stuck in the stuffy capitol.

As he rode in the passenger seat of Hughes' automobile, he mused. Hughes must've noticed his expression, however, for he spared no tact and pointed it out.

"Why the long face, Elliot?"

It irked him when most people were so casual with his name. He was a noble, after all – people were to call him Young Master Nightray, or some such thing. But somehow, the familiar address from Maes Hughes was actually refreshing.

"Nothing…" came Elliot's automatic response. He hadn't meant to say it, thereby sounding like some sort of emo teenager, but it just sort of happened.

"You sure?" It was a polite pressing, a sort of suggestion not to close him out. Hughes seemed an intelligent man; he knew how to look at a situation as it appeared, and see how it was, and how everything connected.

"…You and your daughter…" Elliot sat up straight in his seat; the last thing he wanted was to wallow in self pity, or even appear so. "It's nice to see a family like yours… to know they can still exist."

"Mm," Hughes responded with a nod. He didn't say any more, but a smile ghosted across his face.

It wasn't a long drive to Central Command. Hughes had a bit of a time getting Elliot the clearance to go further into the fortress than the average civilian, but he eventually managed it, and they headed up to the military library. They needed any information they could get – on homunculi, the philosopher's stone, Lab 5, anything. They needed more pieces to the puzzle.

They'd only just sat down with stacks of books and files to go through when Captain Fokker – with a bleary-eyed Sheska trailing behind him – intruded. He handed Hughes a recent newspaper and told him to open to a specific page. Elliot sat across the table (Sheska slumped in the chair next to his and promptly fell asleep), and watched with narrowed eyes. What was this?

"Riots in Liore?" Hughes finally said, frowning through his lenses at the text before him.

"Yes," said Fokker, "it's apparently in response to that sham religion that was preying on the townspeople. They finally realized they were being suckered."

"Can you blame them for lashing out?" Elliot quipped. The peoples' outrage, however, could never justify brutality.

Hughes nodded, musing some more over whatever article he was reading. "Ishval and Liore… the East has been a real hotbed, huh?"

"I'm afraid it's not just the East," Fokker explained. "There have been reports of uprisings in the North and West as well."

"The bodies are piling up all over…" Hughes' gaze darkened, and the atmosphere in the room plummeted with it. "The government's going to have a hard time keeping control at this rate."

"No freaking kidding…" Elliot muttered.

Then Hughes' eyes narrowed, and without another word, he set the newspaper down and stood. Elliot, confused but not about to sit there and let it fly over his head, stood to follow wherever he led. In this case, it was the door.

"Colonel Hughes?" asked Fokker. "Is something wrong?"

"I'll be in the archive room," was the stiff response, and then he was gone, leaving the door for Elliot to close behind them. The teen did so and then jogged to catch up.

"Okay, what's going on?" Elliot asked, determined for some answers.

"Something's not right." Hughes had on his face the most serious expression he'd ever worn as long as Elliot knew him. That let him know that whatever 'wasn't right' here, was very serious. "…have you ever noticed the shape of Amestris?"

Once they reached the archive room, the first thing Hughes did was pull the map off the bulletin board and lay it out on one of the tables. He took a pen, and began marking, talking out loud so Elliot could hear.

"Liore…" Hughes circled the city point. "These endless uprisings… The philosopher's stone… Human sacrifices… And the outright genocide of the Ishvallan people. This means…" He snatched up the map, carried away in his musings. "How could this even happen? And who could've orchestrated something as terrible as this? I've got to tell the Fuhrer right away."

"What?" Elliot slammed his palms on the table, reaffirming his presence. "What are you talking about, colonel? What can you see that the rest of us can't?" He obviously saw a connection, but whatever it was, Elliot was completely missing-

A shadow moved. The door slammed. Thanks to Hughes' earlier haste, they had no light within the room itself, and so they were plunged into darkness. Elliot drew his rapier as Hughes sucked in a breath.

Someone else was in here. Elliot could hear their breathing.

"Hello Lieutenant Colonel," said a sultry feminine voice that Elliot recognized. "It's nice to meet you."

"Hughes, it's that homunculus!" Elliot, eyes beginning to adjust to the low light, rolled over the table to join the colonel at his side. Two targets were easier to pick off. "Watch out!"

"And you… the blue-eyed boy from Lab 5." The she-devil chortled. "A pleasure to see you again."

"Rot in h***," was Elliot's response. He kept his blade leveled in the direction of her voice, and he'd begun to make out her silhouette in the darkness. Her eyes… seemed to glow.

She – Lust – sighed, and began to stalk forward toward them. Hughes put a hand on Elliot's shoulder, and started backing up. Elliot hesitated, but followed suit. Hughes was a soldier, but he was also smart. There were times for a charge, and times for a momentary deference until one could access the situation.

Hughes, who seemed to also be recovering his sight, grinned a bit. "Cool tattoo you got there."

"Those are your last words?" Lust seemed amused. "Wouldn't you rather scream?" She drew her hand back, and Elliot raised his sword.

Her spears went all around him faster than he expected. He flinched. Hughes grunted behind him, Elliot couldn't move, and something silver slung over his shoulder toward Lust. It struck her in the forehead, sunk in, and she dropped to the floor, her spears automatically retracting.

"Hughes!" Elliot whirled, spotted the colonel gripping his shoulder with white knuckles.

"Roy…" Hughes gritted through his teeth. "Need to call… Roy."

Elliot nodded. That meant they needed to get to the directory. "Let's go, then." He cast one more glance at the fallen homunculus, knew they didn't have much time, and then led the way out of the archive room.

At the door, Hughes swayed and almost fell. Elliot steadied him.

"Come on, colonel," he muttered, "we have a call to make. Then we're finding a doctor."

Hughes managed a pained smirk. "Pretty persuasive, kid."

"Just keep walking."

They did so, Hughes gravitating toward the walls a few times and leaving streaks of blood across off-white wallpaper. It took some doing to reach the operating room, and the wounded soldier was quite drained by the time they did. Elliot had resorted to supporting him via his non-injured side, Hughes' arm hung across his shoulders. The clerk on call noticed them, but apparently not the state they were in.

"Oh my, you're back again already," she said, cheery as all-get-out. "Who gets to hear about your daughter this t-?" She finally noticed, and gasped. "Lieutenant Colonel, you're bleeding!"

"No s***," Elliot spat. Hughes unlooped his arm from Elliot's shoulders and staggered toward the phones himself.

"It's nothing. I-I need a private line. I have to tell him…" Hughes went so far as to pick up the phone, but Elliot could feel his hesitation growing. It didn't take long for it to register why.

If there was corruption in the military, who knew who could be listening in. They couldn't trust anyone. That's what the Fuhrer himself had said.

Hughes set the phone back down, leaving a bloody handprint on it. "Sorry…" he muttered to the operator, "forget I was here." He staggered back toward the door, and Elliot hurried to follow, and support the colonel's side again. Whether Hughes liked it or not, the man could barely walk under his own strength.

"But-But sir!" the operator called after them. Elliot closed the door behind them with his heel, cutting her off.

"Where to, Hughes? I know you have a plan B."

Hughes took a shaky breath, and then gestured down the hall. "Outside… Away from Command… Th-There's a phone booth a block or so away."

"Right. Maybe once we're there, you can explain what you figured out that's so important?"

Along the way, Hughes seemed to adjust to the pain a bit; adrenaline likely helped a lot. By the time they reached the phone booth he'd referred to, the colonel could stand without swaying, and he did so in the booth as he dialed the number for East City HQ. He'd get the East City operators, and he'd have to jump through more hoops to get through to Colonel Mustang, but it'd be a more secure line. Elliot remained just outside the booth door, rapier drawn and ready for trouble. Because trouble was sure to come, on a night like this.

"I need you to connect me to Colonel Mustang right away," Hughes said when aforementioned operator answered. He paused a moment, listening to a response, and then spoke again, sounding frustrated. "You are speaking to Lieutenant Colonel Hughes! This is a matter of life and death!" Another pause. "What!? Are you trying to waste time!?" He began to dig around in his pocket.

Outside, Elliot scanned the street – the lampposts, the hedges, the trees all trimmed and immaculate. What had been a perfectly normal street just earlier that day had become a corridor of deadly shadows. They were so exposed; phone booths were anything but defensible.

In Hughes' digging, a photograph fluttered from his grasp and onto the sidewalk at Elliot's feet. He glanced down, stooped to pick it up, but froze before he could. One of the shadows had moved, and a figure now strode through one of the circles of light illuminating the sidewalk, coming from the direction of the Command fortress. The figure wore a blue military uniform, highly recognizable even at a distance. Short-cropped brown hair and a female physique – 2nd Lieutenant Ross!

"Hughes, we've got company," Elliot, forgetting the photo, muttered over his shoulder. Hughes finished reciting some sort of code and then turned to look. Elliot pointed. "It doesn't make sense. How did she know where we were?"

Ross came closer. Hughes narrowed his eyes.

"That's not the lieutenant," he said darkly.

_I could have told you that, _said the voice in Elliot's head.

_The heck!? _Elliot responded. _Thanks for the warning! You've been awfully silent so far, you uncooperative b******!_

_You've never appreciated our interjections much._

_Yeah, well, make up your mind! Help, or shut the h*** up! _Elliot, frowning now, looked again at the approaching soldier. It sure _looked_ like Maria Ross. He addressed Hughes. "What do you mean?"

"She has a mole under her left eye – like you. I figured you of all people would've caught that. Whoever that is, it's not Ross."

"But who could possibly look so similar?"

"I don't know… I've heard of surgeons who can do some crazy stuff with faces, but why Maria Ross?"

She was within hearing distance now, and close enough that Elliot could make out the pistol she carried. She raised it, halting her steps, and took aim at them.

"I'm going to have to ask you to step away from the phone booth, both of you," she said. She _sounded_ like Maria Ross.

"And just who do you think _you_ are!?" Elliot wasn't about to play any games. He was tired of feeling in the dark; bad enough he had to stay behind in Central in the first place, but now everything important was trying to fly over his head. Enough of that!

The woman seemed almost amused, but answered evenly, creeping closer. "I'm 2nd Lieutenant Ross. You might remember me."

"Cut the crap!" Elliot took two threatening steps toward her, pointing at her face with his blade. "Maria Ross has a mole under her eye; I'm afraid you're missing it. So who are you and who are you working for!?"

The faux Ross looked shocked for a moment, lowering the gun, before she seemingly recovered herself and gave a wide, toothy grin. One that looked completely foreign on her face. Elliot's eyebrows rose as the change took him off guard.

"Well, aren't you the observant ones. I can't believe I forgot." The voice was all wrong, now. Lower, raspy, like a chain smoker in the middle of puberty. Elliot's brain warred with itself trying to peg it as masculine or feminine. Meanwhile, the faux Ross, stepping closer still, lifted two fingers, tapped the spot under her left eye, and with a flash of red lightning, a mole appeared. "There. How do I look now?"

Elliot's mental troubleshooting came to a screeching halt, and he stared with wide eyes.

"Homunculus," he breathed.

"This is not happening…" Hughes groaned in the phone booth, still clinging to the receiver. "Please tell me I'm hallucinating or something."

"Nothing's going to happen here, Hughes, I swear!" Elliot roped his thoughts back into order and reaffirmed his grip on the pommel of his sword. Nobody was going to die today.

"Save the nobility for someone who cares," said the faux Ross – whoever they really were – as she stalked even closer. Elliot felt like he recognized the voice somehow, though, the more he heard it. "Now, you, Lieutenant Colonel… you're a smart man. Did you ever think that'd be the cause of your death?"

"You're not going to touch him!" Elliot shifted his weight. The gun was still down. She was wide open.

Hughes almost caught him. "Elliot, don't!"

Elliot lunged. As he predicted, the fake Ross raised her gun, fired. He ducked low, fire breathed across his neck in the form of a bullet, he dove in close, slashed his rapier upward, and cut clean through her wrist. The gun, clasped in her severed hand, fell to the pavement, while its owner screeched in pain and staggered back. The hand disintegrated into dust, solidifying Elliot's homunculus theory, and Elliot hurried to kick the pistol away.

"Now we're on even ground," he declared, readying his sword once more, while the creature re-grew its lost limb. "Come and fight me, monster!"

The homunculus, clutching its arm close, glared up at him through Maria Ross' eyes. It spat a curse, and gritted its teeth. "Lust… You were supposed to send him out alone…"

"Too bad for you." Elliot planted his feet, watching closely for any sign of a coming attack. He watched the homunculus' feet, especially. Behind him, Hughes started talking again – the phone! Mustang must've picked up! "Don't you know this man has a wife and daughter waiting for him? I've taken it upon myself to make sure he returns to them tonight."

Its hand was back. It straightened, grimaced away the pain, and then chortled. "I like the way you talk big. It's amusing."

"Test it, then. I dare you."

"Weren't you supposed to be hanging around with the Fullmetal Pipsqueak? But instead, you're here, causing problems…" The creature sighed, leaning back and placing a hand on its hip. Elliot almost didn't see it coming.

Then it threw one of its arms forward, and it extended into a long tentacle, racing for him. _A shapeshifter? _Elliot didn't allow himself to flinch; instead, he stayed right where he was until the last second. Then he leapt away, to the right, and swung the sword down at the tentacle's end.

"Got you." The homunculus – d***, the voice was so familiar! – grinned its sadistic grin and its other arm extended to match the first. It slithered around Elliot's ankle.

Elliot's mind threatened to panic.

_Steady. Steady. Use your momentum._

Inhaling slowly, still in motion, he allowed the arc of his last swing to continue, down, the tip of the sword skidding on the sidewalk and showering sparks as it slashed through the second tentacle, cutting it loose from his foot. The loose ends turned to dust as well.

His opponent snarled, darted in to try and score a low blow to Elliot's exposed torso in the end of his swing. Turning the pommel in his grip, Elliot brought it across horizontally in front of him, cutting it across the belly, and then twisting it again to bring it whiplashing back. Two gaping gashes spilled blood on the fabric of the uniform, the creature howled, and then the wounds began to sew shut.

Elliot knew he wouldn't be able to kill it. But the least he could do was wound it, as it seemed to hurt, and buy Hughes time.

He saw the homunculus' eyes – which had gone violet in its rage – shift to the side, and knew what it was after. It lunged for the fallen pistol. Elliot met it there, cutting it off at the ankles and kicking it aside. He scooped up the gun, took clumsy aim, and fired. The rebound made him sway. He'd aimed for its forehead. It got hit in the cheekbone and screamed, the sound echoing through the night. Surely somebody had to wake up by now!

Elliot then chucked the gun as far as he could over the nearest hedge. Who knew where it landed or what it hit, but he didn't care. He sprinted back toward the phone booth while the homunculus was still healing itself.

"Hughes!" He skidded to a stop at the booth door, glanced over his shoulder. The faux Ross was hunched over in the middle of the street, clutching her face.

"D*****!" The homunculus sounded pained, irritated – even a tad afraid. With red electricity flickering over its arms, the monster took two hesitant steps back.

Elliot sensed prey when he saw it.

But then it shifted again, lowered its arms, looked at them with a savage scowl. Red still flickered about its body.

Hughes slammed the receiver down without bidding Mustang goodbye, and then stepped out of the booth. "Come on. We're leaving!" He set off in the opposite direction of the homunculus and Command, trying to run but shortly settling on a jog. Elliot followed.

"Where?" he asked, making a hairpin turn into an alleyway right behind the older man.

"To make sure my family's safe!" Hughes hesitated. "Wait… no, that could lead those things right to them…"

"The train station. We should go to East City ourselves," Elliot said, finally passing Hughes to take the lead. They exited the alley onto another road with more buildings and less shrubbery.

"But-"

"Call your family from the station. Tell them to get out of town. Maybe visit Resembool for a short vacation. Let them know something's gone wrong."

"I wish it were that simple, kid…" Hughes paused as they entered another alleyway to lean on one of the building walls for a moment.

Elliot hovered at the mouth of the alley, in close watch of pursuit. "You might have to make it that simple."

"…Where'd you learn to use a sword like that?" Hughes changed the subject, eyeing the rapier. "Edward said you were good. But you're only sixteen."

"I've been receiving the best tutoring anyone could offer since I was five. After all… I won't inherit the duchy. I wanted something of my own. Something that could never be taken from me."

"That's an interesting way to look at a skill…" The colonel stood again, moved down the alley.

Elliot, turning to follow, spotted movement across the street. Heels clacked on concrete, and a woman sauntered under one of the streetlamps. Elliot stiffened, and hurried after Hughes.

"Lust's-AUGH!" Pain, white-hot pain tore through his calves and his knees buckled, sending him sprawling on his face. His palms and jaw chaffed on the pavement. The rapier skittered from his grasp.

"Got you," oozed Lust, approaching, following the trail her spears led to them, where they remained impaling Elliot's legs to the ground. "We've been ordered not to kill you until further notice. But that doesn't mean we can't hurt you. Especially since it seems you heal remarkably fast - you know, for a human."

"Elliot!" Hughes drew two kunai, raised them, before a different woman's voice bounced off the alley walls.

"Maes?"

Hughes whirled. Elliot, trying to keep his breath even with freakish fingernails piercing his shins like pegs, raised his head and tried to peer around the colonel to see the other end of the alley, where the voice had come from. A woman stood there, in a purple skirt and a sleeveless lavender blouse. Her short, fluffy blonde hair gave away her identity. Gracia Hughes.

"Gracia?" Hughes gasped, and then waved her away. "Go, Gracia, it's not safe here!"

"Maes, what's going on?" She took a few hesitant steps into the alleyway.

_Something's not right._

_Why would she be here? In the middle of the night, wandering around near Central Command?_

_And she wasn't wearing that this morning._

_"…__Fullmetal Pipsqueak…"_

Hughes was running toward his wife. "You need to go, now!"

Elliot tried pushing himself up. Lust wrenched her spears, and he let out an agonized groan before forcing words from his mouth. "HUGHES, NO, DON'T!"

_IT'S ENVY._

A gunshot pierced the night.


End file.
